


Double Trouble

by StarlightCaptivator



Series: As The Universe Expands [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baby Adventure, Drama Llama, Gen, Sparklings, TFOC - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 08:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6976240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two heads, they say, are better than one.</p><p>♫♪[Obnoxious daytime soap opera music]♪♫</p><p>On this installment of "As The Universe Expands", idle minds in a pair of precious little ones most certainly promises a future headache for their caretakers</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaannnnd here we are again, with number four now in this growing series. If I can be hasty in getting my stuff done ~~2 weeks, 1 day~~ then I'll see about posting the first of the next work ;) 
> 
> I'm formatting this fic a little differently this time, tell me how you like what it does to the flow! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Blowover was little and she knew it.

She knew it when she was playing 'combiner fight' with her sire, latched on to his large pede and attacking with her little foam ball blaster.

She knew it when at Carrier's, when a visitor tried to hand her a glass to ferry back that was too big and she inevitably would fall with her short arms spread around it and need to be collected.

She knew it _especially_ when Ultra Magnus came to visit when the others got too loud or played too hard. Even _Carrier_ looked small next to him.

Despite being little and not always understanding all that her smallness implied, Blowover was not a mechlet easily swayed by an obstacle in front of her.

Which was why she was delighted when she started to get the hang of her magna-wheels; suddenly there was nearly no where she couldn't go in her home. Her carrier was confused when she would be found outside of her berth, so would her sire, though more often he was amused.

 

When Blowover woke up _this_ time, she knew right away she was alone. The soft light next to her crib was on, but aside from soft music the only other sound in the suite was the hum of her own systems.

Blowover sat up, and got to playing with the mesh dolls she had fallen asleep on. Soon enough, they weren't enough company to keep her attention, and she began peering about her darkened room. The door to her little room was locked- she could tell from the red light on the access pad- and she'd probably find the big door was locked too- though it was no matter.

She knew of _another_ way she could find a playmate, it'd just take a little figuring out is all. 

Short work was made of getting over the bars of her berth, and after a few short moments considering various toys to take with her, Blowover ultimately decided she'd not need them where she was going.

Besides, she'd not quite yet figured out the particulars of carrying things around in her proto-alt.

The vent was quick work too, not as quick as her crib; but by her very nature she was prone to patience. Once she was inside and the cover had been replaced, she folded down to her wheels and took off.

It was a short journey to the vent opening she wanted, and even shorter work on the vent once she got there; having been visibly altered, even from the inside.

Waiting within was her most favorite playmate of late, all curled up on his berth, nearly in recharge.

His berth was just as easy to get into as Blowover's was to get out of, though plopping next to him didn't effect the little flier in the least. 

" 'Ission." Her 'F's weren't so good, quite yet, but no one seemed to mind when she was out an about. Blowover petted Fission's thin pauldron but all _that_ seemed to do was settle him in further.

"Wake _up,_ 'Ission!" She attempted to shake him, but even though he was younger than her, he was already bigger. Impatient and pouting, she climbed right onto him and began to rain soft bops down on his face, repeating his name with a grating edge.

_That_ was far more effective, and soon Blowover was sprawled out back and then quickly sat back up again, watching as Fission rubbed at his sleepy optics. 

"Blo'? Why're you in m' room?" She'd thought it'd be obvious- but then again, she was older than him and would know better on most things.... even if he did talk better. Blowover donned a very put-upon expression she'd seen several times in her _storied_ experience thus far. 

She let out a big ol' sigh and got to her pedes. "'Cause I wanna _play_ , silly! Wanna go onna _venture_." The idea was inspired, in part by her Carrier's favorite stories and the vids he liked to watch with the strange fleshy mecha. 

Fission's optics brightened, sleep chased from his expression post-haste. "Where would we go?"  

Got 'im. 

She began to weave a tale from the top of her helm or searching and spying... and a monster in the vents. By the time she was finished, Fission was standing too, fists clenched in his excitement. 

The planning phase was extra serious, just like they had seen the Captains do once or twice before when the whole of the crew had to gather- and over Fission's special coloring pad they mapped out their route. 


	2. Chapter 2

The ~~vents~~ tunnels were dark and dusty and danger lurked about every corner, only kept safe by the intrepid adventurers within.

~~Digits~~ Blasters pointed about every shadow, ready to fight the ~~imaginary~~ beast that lurked deep within the  ~~ventilation systems~~ belly of Cybertron and defend it's people from the beast's clutches. 


	3. Chapter 3

When she woke next, Blowover was warm and well rested.... and a little disoriented. She sat up, or tried to, as she found she was being used as a hug toy. 

A moment of thought and some liberal wiggling got her free, and she went about trying to wake Fission back up. The pair had traveled farther into the vents than either of them had done before alone, far enough that the dust was thicker, some of the vent covers had the appearance of being thicker in turn.

 

It took Fission a while to wake up.

Surprisingly, the badgering _didn't_ hasten his waking.

When he did wake, however, their adventure was quick to resume.

Their monster killing mission had become a rescue thanks to discussion before the pair had fallen asleep, as Blowover told Fission the tale of a funny, gangly bot with no face at the very edges of her memory, he had disappeared shortly after Fission had been born. 

Fission supplied the name, having heard it from his carrier and those the jet would talk to on a regular basis. 

They were off without a second thought, flying and driving around tight corners that would make their parents ill. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Someone was watching him. 

Someone was watching him and he couldn't figure out where or _why._  He promised to behave for _this_ round of house-arrest if they gave him some slaggin' _privacy_ , and command had agreed to it. 

Whirl squinted his optic at the area around his desk, poked his claws around his berth and his windows. 

Stabilizers twitching and claws clacking, Whirl considered his paranoia. Setting a trap for whomever was to bring him next ration would likely just end up getting him more ~~or harsher~~  disciplinary time. 

The thought didn't help his agitation, no matter how logical it sounded knocking about in his processor.  

He took the time to pace a few rounds of his hab before flumping down on his berth, mumbling about entrapment. He was a _Wrecker_ , how was he supposed to ignore his instincts so blatantly? 

A soft gurgle paired with the tiniest of coughs had Whirl up off his berth and across his room to the vent on his wall with nary the time for a sparkbeat between the noise and his movement. In the next he had the vent panel rent from it's place low on the wall, held in both claws and....

"....Th'Frag?" 

He expected Ravage. 

Or a camera, or listening device or _something._  

He didn't expect _them_ , and cycled his optic blankly at the pair of sparklings. 

A moment of silence spanned between them before the smaller one spoke up. 

"W-We're here to save you!" 

Whirl stared at the pair a few moments longer before dropping the vent cover with a sour laugh. Both sparklings jumped at the clatter of the heavy cover on the floor. 

"You two,” He said in a flat tone. The pair nodded quickly, optics blown huge. "Are here to 'save' _me_." The pair nodded faster, especially at the complicated claw-based air-quotes. He scoffed theatrically and walked back away from the vent, not at all surprised at the sound of of a pair of scampering pedes behind him. 

They halted when he peered back at them and flicked his stabilizers in mock irritation. "So, how’re you going to fit me in the vents?" 

They stared at him, and the miniature nerd glanced at the double-miniature lob ball he called a friend before shuffling forwards a few steps, and in a whisper explained "We're playing pretend." 

Whirl stared down at the mechlet with no small measure of incredulity when it occurred to him that neither him nor the minibot had shown the slightest bit of fear or caution towards him so far... until now, when the little nerd looked like he wasn't sure if Whirl knew he and his friend were playing fraggin' _pretend_ or not.  

Whirl elected to ignore the pair and flop himself onto his berth, figuring they'd take the hint and return to whatever business they had in the vents. 

He did _not_ expect the sound of tiny, tire-assisted pedes plodding up next to him, nor did he expect the tiny golden visor peeking up at him. 

Six little fingers tapped the edge of his berth as they hauled the tiny mechlet up for peeking. 

"Hey, we're kinda hungry. Got any 'nenergon?" Whirl lifted his helm to stare at the tiny bot. 

"Got somethin' wrong with your vocalizer, scraplet? It's _Ehn_ -err-john." He sat back up from his dramatic sprawl in an effort to stare the little bot down, but she remained were she was, staring up at him in turn, only with her cheeks puffed out in indignation. 

"That's what I said! You got any or not?" Whirl couldn't help the laugh that burst forth, and he sat up further. "An' I'm _not_ a scraplet!!" 

"You know what, scraplet? You and your friend can climb up on my workbench over there- no chairs or helping each other, I'll give you some fuel." if anything, it'd be entertaining to watch them struggle for a while. 

Lob ball looked over at nerd, who shrugged in turn and took off on ridiculously tiny thrusters. He touched down on the desk and sat at the edge with only the smallest of wobbles, and Whirl turned his cyclopean gaze on the little femme before him.... who _had_ been before him.

She had folded down into her ~~adorable~~ weird little proto-alt in the time he looked away, and after gunning her ridiculously high-pitched engine she took off with a screech towards the desk....and his _wall_. 

Whirl on his pedes before he had the chance to think about it, the possibility of the tiny bot wrecking herself on his watch had his spark lurching in it's casing. 

He was just on the side of not fast enough to catch her. Fully expecting a burst of soft metal and energon on the immovable metal that was his wall, he winced back at moment the little bot would impact. 

Impact didn't happen, and he watched with his optic blown huge as the little bot lifted on her wheels right directly onto the wall itself. Halfway up and a tight arch back down towards the floor and the sparkling was on the desk too, she transformed in order to better dissolve into giggles at the sight of his shock. 

Whirl sputtered a moment before he got his bearings. By the time he stood in front of his desk, the little monster was only giggling a little still, or looking up at him and giggling before looking away and calming. 

He would've been angry, if it hadn't been so perfectly set up and executed.

"You thought I was gonna crash! Now you gotta give us 'nenergon."

He crossed his arms under his canopy, half-tempted to deny the little thing until she could say the word right, but seeing as he was currently under house-arrest with no comms and on one ration a day.... It would _probably_ be better to feed the little pair, lest they starve away all day and disintegrate away or something. 

Mini-nerd just gazed patiently as he took a seat, looking all sorts of unnaturally smart-aft-y at him with those big' ol blue optics, and Whirl returned the look with his best approximation of a glare and removed a cube from his subspace- the last delivered ration. 

Both started to reach for it at once and he pulled it away out of reach. "Ah-Ah, little scraplets. One at a time," He began to lower it again, but their reaching arms had him thinking of another thing and he rose it, ignoring the annoyed sounds they made. " _Don't_ get greedy. You tap the side when your tanks are full or _else_." He rightly assumed he'd not have to think up a sufficient threat for the young bots, as they peered at each other for a moment before the little daredevil vented out a long sigh. 

" 'Ission can get the 'nenergon. He's littler than me, you know." Younger- he knew she meant, and he _did_ recall. It was his emergence and one recording post his previously mentioned emergence which had Whirl forbidden from being within a certain distance of the little mechs. 

This was extenuating circumstances though.... Probably. 

Regardless, Whirl shook his helm and directed the cube to the flier, who was more than happy to drink from it until he was full. The little spark-attack-waiting-to-happen was just as easy to fuel, and both came away with dirtied faces. He considered the merits of attempting to clean them with his claws, but decided that fuel-covered faces or not didn't matter too much, as they began to root around in his clockworks. 

"Hey hey hey, whooa there." It was easy to carefully grasp one sparklet in each claw and sit them back down facing him. "How about instead of ruining my hard work, we start on making some toys for you little monsters, hm?" 

 

* * *

 

By the time his door pinged him a warning in the early afternoon, Whirl had successfully made several rudimentary toys and led those toys in a campaign against his tiny intruders. 

That had subdued them, apparently, as after a long, hard fought battle, the pair of sparklings had set down their new toys with big yawns and curled up to nap, the casualties of war. 

There they remained currently as Whirl had moved himself to one of his chairs to wait and face the music. 

Luckily, today's hapless delivery bot was Bluestreak. 

A very haggard, droopy looking Bluestreak, who instead of doing the room inspection he was expecting, handed off the ration and looked to leave before Whirl stopped him. "Hey, those things belong to anyone?" He asked causally, stepping aside and gesturing towards his workspace. "'Cause they showed up and refused to pay rent. I'm thiiiis close to calling an exterminator..." 

Bluestreak's optics lit upon the sleeping bitlets and his entire demeanor shifted. 

"Oh!! You've got the little bits... You've… _had_ the little bits?? We've been looking for them all over today and have just had an absolute hell of a time trying to get their parents to calm down; Brainstorm is _especially_ wigged out and afraid something's happened to little Fission- he's been saying their creation bond feels weak! Oh, you fed them too.." Whirl turned down his audio reception almost immediately after taking and casually subspacing the cube, watching as Bluestreak came to look at the pair of interlopers and turned back to him. 

Whirl lifted a silencing claw and Bluestreak shut his mouth with it's raising, doorwings twitching with annoyance. 

"Get them outta here would ya?" He reclaimed his spot, put a blasé lilt to his voice. " I can't play unpaid bit-sitter for the rest of my _tenure_. Also: I need a work order for my vent." He gestured, and his own sitter-of-the-day's optics followed before centering back on him with an obnoxiously suspicious-but-in-a-good-way look. 

A few more rumblings chased him out, sparklets and their toys in tow.

They'd be back where they belonged in no time.

 

* * *

 

Sometime later in the medbay, Ratchet resisted the urge to pinch his nasal ridge. 

Deep vent, Deeeep-

Deep breathing exercises didn't help the growing flare of his temper, at **all**. He cut off the babbling fool in front of him, _again_ , before he could start up, _again._ "And as _I've_  been telling _you_ , aside from  the insultingly insignificant dust gathered in his thrusters, the sprocket's in _perfect health_."

Brainstorm mustered the most skeptical look he could manage on such short notice and pointedly looked down at Fission, who was snuggled close to the metal vertical to his canopy, optics wide with an engaged gleam that was all to familiar in _his sort._  

Ratchet had his arms crossed over his chest when Brainstorm looked back at him. "Oooh no, _you_  get that look every five minutes or so, just because _he_  developed your penchant for wild-eyed ideas doesn't mean anything is wrong with his spark. Maybe he's just maturing faster than _you_  are comfortable with."  

The pout behind the mask was obvious. "He's not nearly so developed yet, Ratchet. Plus- I'm an _exceptional_  parent." And even pouting, he managed to have the know-it-all tone. "So why _else_  would our creation bond feel so... _peripheral??"_

Ratchet resisted the comment that came to mind, regarding his pede and Brainstorm's aft. Instead, he snatched up the nearest portable scanner and directed it towards Brainstorm, readying the most perfect of sarcastic responses in return.

An urgent beep from the scanner cut off the growing stream of vitriol mid-word, and Ratchet forced his jaw to close at the display. 

"....What? What is it?" Brainstorm asked, alarm raising as he watched the wide range of emotions cross over Ratchet's face. Fission looked up as the medic turned the scanner's display towards Brainstorm, trying to see the screen even as his carrier silently read, re-read and re-re-read over the little readout. 

Silence prevailed for a few long moments more, Ratchet knew the exact moment Brainstorm understood what he was looking as soon as the stark realization washed over his half-covered expression.

"I'm _what??"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am nothing, if not predictable. |3c
> 
> Again, huge props to [Abyssopelagic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Abyssopelagic/), with whom I've been yelling back and forth with about this series quite a lot. Go read her stuff, it's great! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading~♥


End file.
